Prefixes Matter.

One year and one week ago, a man who was a stranger to most of us lost his life. His name is George Floyd. In the 372 days since then, we have all had a lot of time to process. To evaluate. To change. Or to stay the same.

In the weeks following Mr. Floyd’s death, I watched a message by Andy Stanley called “This Human Race.” His message provided a very truthful and heartfelt message on racism in our country. One of the concepts that challenged me the most was that of being NON-racist or ANTI-racist.

According to my good friend, Merriam Webster, the prefix “Non-“ means “not; other than; reverse of; absence of.” Merriam Webster also defines the prefix “Anti-“ as “exerting energy in the opposite direction, one that is opposite in kind to, opposing in effect or activity, or serving to prevent, cure, or alleviate.”

Those words are only one letter apart but they couldn’t be more different. Let me explain as Andy Stanley did and with the application of Merriam Webster’s definitions.

I can easily say I’m NON-child abuse because I don’t abuse my children. If I see it happening, I can walk by and think, “I’m non-child abuse because I don’t do that to my children.” However, if I’m ANTI-child abuse, I cannot simply walk by undisturbed and proud that “I don’t do that.” Instead, what is happening is so disruptive to my spirit that it requires a response. An action. Not an internal evaluation of how good I think I am.

Over the past year, I have had the privilege to engage in some extremely difficult conversations with people who have grown more precious to me than I could have imagined. These conversations didn’t happen because life was great. They happened because of very hard situations that involved racism. Those situations brought things to surface that these friends have had to deal with their entire lives because of the color of their skin.

Please hear my heart when I say this: I am NOT making a political statement. I am so far over the political climate in our country that I don’t care what “side” you voted for or where your political preferences lie. What I do know is that until we take ownership for OUR OWN responses and quit throwing out very general “they” statements to blame everyone else, we will never make progress. Not as individuals and certainly not as a nation. A political party will never change your heart. (But Jesus can.)

That being said, I’ve sat across the table from friends who were told they were the hardest working people at the business but they couldn’t be promoted because the owner “didn’t want black people out front.” I’ve listened to stories about parents who train their black sons how to respond if they were ever to be pulled over by law enforcement – and I’ve never even considered that to be a necessary conversation with my white son. I’ve learned about a friend close to my age who was seated on one side of the math classroom with her four black classmates while the teacher turned her back to them and taught the rest of the white students – the entire year. I don’t know if this brings a rise in you – but I can tell you that these are no longer just stories I’ve heard but they are areas of hurt in the lives of people I love. What hurts them hurts me.

In October of 2020, I got to visit First African Baptist Church in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. This was the site of a horrible event called Bloody Tuesday. It all happened on June 9, 1964. A group of African Americans wanted to march from the church to the nearby courthouse simply to get a drink of water out of the same fountains white people used. As they marched down the front steps of the building, many were attacked and repeatedly beaten by local law enforcement officers. One of those men was Mr. Maxie Thomas, seen in the freshly starched denim pants below.

At the time, Mr. Maxie had recently returned from serving in the Vietnam War. His willingness to serve our country at that time meant that he left his family behind as he volunteered to offer his life to fight for your freedom and my freedom yet return to Tuscaloosa and find the freedom he fought for was not offered to him. He actually took the brunt of a brutal attack as he protected a female marcher.

Mr. Maxie spoke to us that October afternoon – and, as a man who suffered immensely because of the color of his skin, he challenged us by repeatedly saying, “We CAN overcome because we are all a part of the Human Race.” His words continue to resonate with me every single morning as I look in the mirror.

This. Human. Race.

Non-?

Anti-?

You choose.